


And I Think I'm Gonna Be Fine

by HockeyShit



Series: Papa Ned [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Depression, this is horribly self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 02:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18437444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HockeyShit/pseuds/HockeyShit
Summary: Jon had to close his eyes when he saw the tears in his father’s eyes, he turned his head so he was looking at the ceiling when he opened his eyes he realized he was crying too. He felt one of his father’s big hands brush away his tear. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had been this tender with him.





	And I Think I'm Gonna Be Fine

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes you just, have depression and you wish Ned Stark were there to tell you it's all going to be okay.

Sometimes Jon woke up and he couldn’t make himself get out of bed. He knew he had work to do, that he had lessons to go to. He vaguely felt hungry but even that couldn’t get him out of bed. He rolled over on his side, someone would come for him, he hoped it was Robb and not Theon. He might convince Robb he was unwell, Theon would just call Jon lazy. If it were Robb, he would have to deal with the Master, but he would think of something. Right now he closed his eyes and tried to get sleep. He knew he had stayed in bed too many days in the last fortnight, people would get worried but Jon couldn’t make himself care. He might care tomorrow but Jon couldn’t get pat how badly he didn’t want to, nor could he, get out of bed. 

Jon had dozed off, a nice reprieve from the dread of staring up at the ceiling waiting to lie. He wasn’t quite dreaming when Ghost whined and then a knock was heard. Jon struggled to make himself sit up, but he couldn't find it in himself to even do that, so he rolled on to his back. 

“Jon?” Jon didn't have time to worry about how it was his father outside his door before the door creaked open. “Jon, are you unwell?” 

Jon had been practicing the lies he’d tell Robb or Theon, even Sansa or Arya, what he might tell some steward or Maester Luwin. He hadn’t thought at all what he might tell his father, the thought that he would have to lie directly to his father had never occurred to him. 

Jon didn’t know to say so he didn’t give his father an answer just stared dejectedly at him as his father came to sit on the end of Jon’s bed. 

“Is it your head again? Or your stomach?” Jon knew his father had seen through all his lies. He had just wanted to pretend that his father had believed him, that he didn’t shoot worried looks at him the few times Jon got to a meal. The lies were easier than trying to explain that he couldn’t make himself get out of bed. He didn’t know how to make anyone believe him, that no matter how badly he wanted to get out of bed he couldn't. 

“Are you staying out, following Theon to Wintertown at night?” Jon shook his head, he wanted to cry at the disappointed tone of his father’s voice, he couldn’t tell his father how little he wanted to do with Theon’s night time activities. 

“What is going on Jon? This isn’t like you.” His father reached up to touch Jon’s forehead like Master Luwin did to check for a fever, Jon imagined it was the same thing Lady Catelyn did to her children when they were sick. “Maester Luwin can’t help if you keep telling him lies.”  

Jon could hear his father’s sincerity, that he could tell his father did not actually believe that he was going to Wintertown at night. That offered Jon some degree of comfort still, he did not know what to say to his father, how to begin explaining that if he was ordered out of bed he could not move. 

“Jon-” His father sounded as if he was pleading, Jon had never heard him sound like that. He opened his mouth to say something, but still, he didn’t know what to say, how to say it. “You don’t look yourself lately, you’re eating less, laughing less. Not even Arya gets you to smile anymore. I know you’re a better sword fighter than you have been showing lately, you’re letting Robb beat you when you shouldn’t, you’re faster than him, where have you gone?”  

Jon had to close his eyes when he saw the tears in his father’s eyes, he turned his head so he was looking at the ceiling when he opened his eyes he realized he was crying too. He felt one of his father’s big hands brush away his tear. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had been this tender with him. 

“I don’t, I can’t get out of bed, I want to, I want more than anything to just get out of bed but I can’t make myself do it.” Jon still wouldn't look at his father, he just wanted to disappear, rather than try and explain. 

“Are you in pain?” Jon shook his head, his father wouldn't understand, how could he? Jon wasn’t sure what was wrong with him but he was sure that nothing like this would ever happen to his father, how could it? His father was a strong man, he would be able to make himself get out of bed no matter how badly he didn’t want to. His father often talked about how doing duty was to do what he didn’t want to do, His father would always find a way to do his duty.

They sat there for what felt like forever Jon had no way to tell the passing of time, the curtain of his window was drawn shut. His father would have to go soon Jon knew, he would probably send in Master Luwin, Jon knew what he would say to him. Lord Stark had moved his hand off of Jon’s face a while ago, he had it sitting on one of Jon’s claves, it was nice, Jon felt anchored, he felt safe. He could pretend like his father would help him change this, that his father could protect him from this. 

“Is it like the whole world has become duller? The sky is no longer bright blue, the grass is a muted green?” Jon turned to look at his father but Lord Stark was looking into the fireplace, the fire had long gone out, but it seemed to be the most interesting thing in the world for his father at the moment. 

“Not the colors, food though, I don’t want to eat, nothing tastes right, not even Old Nan’s kidney pies.” Jon felt his father’s hand tighten on his calf for a half a second. “It feels as if there is always a weight on my chest, no matter what I am doing.” Jon didn’t want to believe that his father might understand what he was going through, he didn’t want to think that Lord Stark might have gone through this too. 

“When your- your aunt died, after Robert’s rebellion, I got back to Winterfell, I had so much work to do, I was the Lord of the castle now, Benjen had been running the castle in my stead but now I had to-” He broke off and looked at Jon, he was crying again, or maybe he had never stopped. “I couldn't get out of bed, you and I, we had gotten to Winterfell before my wife did. I couldn’t feel anything, the only thing that- I got out of bed sometimes, when the wetnurse said you were particularly fussy, I would always go to see you. One day she had to bring you to me, but still, I sat up, held you until you quieted.” 

Jon wasn’t sure when he had started crying, he felt his heart seize up, his father had never talked about when he was a child, he had never seen his father cry. Something stirred in him, enough to get him to sit up and hug his father. 

“Maester Luwin, he can help, he gave me something to drink. I’ll talk to him, tell him you need his help.” Lord Stark held Jon close. It was the warmest embrace he’d felt in a long time. “It’s scary but it’s going to be okay. It’ll be okay.” 

 

The drink Maester Luwin made for Jon tasted horrible and Jon worried that it wasn’t working correctly when the next day he still couldn't get out of bed. Maester Luwin promised it would take a few days to start working. Lord Stark didn’t come to Jon’s chambers in those days, and Jon understood, his father was a busy man. But still, it would be nice to see him, to have someone to confide in while he waited for the Master’s potion to work. He didn't forget though, how could he? When he saw his father cry when his father had been more tender with him than Jon had seen him be towards even the girls. It was that thought, the thought that maybe his father had to fight to get out of bed that morning as well that helped Jon wait for the potion to work.

 

Jon woke up and smiled, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and even brushed his hair before he went down to break his fast. He walked up behind Arya and picked her up off the bench, and reviled in the smiles from his family, they could tell something had changed. Jon thought he could live in that meal forever, even with Lady Catelyn looking over at him disapprovingly when he joked with Robb and Theon. He could taste food like it was meant to be tasted, the bacon was maybe the best bacon he had ever had. But the meal didn’t last forever, and eventually, their father had to go. 

“Jon, a word?” everyone seemed to go silent, expecting Jon to be in trouble and Jon half expected it too. His father lead him away from the family and spoke quietly. 

“The potion isn’t perfect, I still have to take it, but-but it’s good to see you back, I’m proud of you.” he didn’t elaborate exactly what it was that he was proud of, but Lord Stark patted Jon on the shoulder before walking off. 

When Jon got back to the table Robb gave him a weird look but Jon just shrugged asking Lady Catelyn’s leave to excuse himself. Jon could feel that today was going to be a good day, He might even beat Robb at sword fighting. 


End file.
